pudding cat
by earlgreymilktea
Summary: Kenma is like a cat. [kurokenmonth: cats]


**kurokenmonth prompt: cats**

* * *

Kenma is like a cat.

His eyes are the exact shade of gold that light glints off in a mesmerizing way, especially in the dark. They're sharp, intelligent, and incredibly observant. Kuroo can practically hear the cogs turning behind them. They track movements on the court, on a digital screen, wherever it is, with terrifying accuracy.

Sometimes Kuroo can swear those eyes stare right through him, as if they can see his very soul. It's terrifying, but also strangely thrilling.

Kenma likes to wander off.

They'd be walking along, Kuroo humming under his breath and Kenma on his phone, when all of sudden Kuroo would glance next to him, behind him, but his little pudding headed shadow is gone. Those are not fun times. Kuroo would be running around panicking at worst case scenarios because while his best friend is definitely smart, he isn't exactly great in unfamiliar territory.

When Kuroo finally finds Kenma, the boy would blink at him with those wide golden eyes and saying, _What took you so long?_

For such a brilliant volleyball player and student in general, Kenma is amazingly lazy. He hates mornings with a passion. The alarm would go off once, twice, three times and still Kenma would continue to burrow into his warm cocoon of blankets. Kuroo has to physically yank the younger boy out of his or else he'd sleep past the bell. If Kuroo doesn't automatically invite himself over to ensure Kenma has company and would show up for practice, he thinks the younger boy wouldn't even have tried to create a social life. There's nothing wrong with that, but sometimes Kuroo wonders if Kenma gets a little lonely. That's why he's sort of the dumb cat owner, sticking out his hand towards the pudding head even though there are scratches on his hand from previous unsuccessful attempts.

Kenma dislikes being told what to do.

Whether it's his parents or senpai or friend; Kenma doesn't really show it, but inside he is grumbling and lamenting. He will still cooperate, but eventually will slink off to some deserted corner where he will pull out his game or just take a nap. Kuroo is often volunteered without his consent to deal with this behaviour, so he has developed a sort of sixth sense for Kenma's hiding spots. Getting the boy to come out of hiding, however, is a different matter altogether. (Kuroo admits more often than not they end up scrunched up next to each other under a stairwell, dozing off and pretending to forget the trouble they will be getting into).

Kenma sleeps like a cat.

When he finally settles down for sleep, after hours of fighting high definition dungeon bosses, he'll shuffle around in his covers and pillows until he is practically buried beneath them, and still he will scrunch his body and continue to burrow himself until he is all curled up and warm. Kuroo has lost count how many times he has woken up to a warm and yawning Kenma snuggling against his chest, pressing his face closer into him without even opening his eyes. Eventually, Kuroo becomes used to it, but not before freaking out many times because Kenma! Is! So! Close! and freaking cute, at that.

It happens not only when Kenma is done with battling for the night, but also during afternoons, when it's just the two of them, on the couch, under the tree, in the bedroom. Sometimes it might even be when they're with their friends or teammates. When it becomes all quiet and lazy and slow, drifting sunlight, Kenma will casually crawl over and dump himself in Kuroo's lap, or just lean against him, eyes closing so defenselessly.

Kuroo becomes used to this, too.

When it comes to territory and possessiveness, Kenma also reacts like a cat. It may be surprising and hard to tell if you are not close with the boy, but Kuroo knows his best friend up and down and sideways. Kenma never physically or forcefully takes back what he believes is his, but he shows his stubbornness in other ways. The quick darting of golden eyes that follow when Kuroo steps out of sight, the small tug on the back of his shirt when he starts getting carried away with Bokuto or the like, the miniscule frown on the pudding head's face when Kuroo takes away his apple pie before dinner. These are all the little things Kenma can't hide, but Kuroo accepts that as a part of him, too.

Kenma is hard to approach.

If you're trying to become close to him, it takes a lot for him to warm up to you. Kuroo has experienced this first hand, days and weeks and so much of his pocket money in exchange for the latest video games sacrificed just so he can proudly introduce Kenma to other people as "my bestest friend ever!" It's not that Kenma is antisocial, he just doesn't know how to express himself most of the time. And sometimes he is just cold, and dark, and even Kuroo cannot tempt him out of his shell. That is alright, too, because Kenma likes his space.

Sometimes Kuroo can't tell what's going on in that pretty little mind of his, and it scares him. Because if even Kuroo, the one closest to Kenma's heart (or, at least, that's what he'd like to believe) cannot decipher the younger boy's distant thoughts, then who ever will? Who ever will be able to reach this cat-like boy, this beautifully enigmatic boy, this quietly compassionate boy, this boy that holds Kuroo's whole and beating heart in his hands?

But once you make is past Kenma's steel exterior wall, he will shower you with that beaming, warm attention that is so quiet you just might miss it. He shows his appreciation and understanding and care in small ways: remembering the little details you let slip in a conversation ages ago, sharing his apple pie with you, pausing his game to listen to your problems. Whenever he does this, Kuroo feels again just how special and grateful he is to have a friend like Kenma. Because while Kenma might knock him down a couple notches with his cool logic and blunt comments, the pudding head also builds him right back up with his extended hand on the court, with his pink-tinted cheeks as he stutters out some embarrassing line from some manga because he wanted to make Kuroo feel better, with his soft muffled laughter as he clings on to the bigger boy and never lets go.

Kenma is like a cat.

And Kuroo is most definitely a cat person.


End file.
